


Just sleep

by ImmortalAcorn



Series: Memories of Draco Malfoy [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Memories, Non-Explicit Sex, POV First Person, Post-Hogwarts, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalAcorn/pseuds/ImmortalAcorn
Summary: ‘Do you want me to leave?’I shook my head.‘Good.’Our tongues and lips moved together.His hard body pressed against mine.His warm skin under my palms.His strong thigh between my legs.His soft hair in my fingers.His familiar smell in my nose.His delicious taste in my mouth.





	Just sleep

I started to realise it at some point. It came slowly and lingered.

I already gave up on stopping it, the affair or whatever it was between us.

I admitted to myself that I was addicted.

How could I ever think that once would be enough? That then I would be able to walk away?

Potter began to stay the nights.

I didn’t care any more and came to expect it.

What I hated was that I started to get to know him.

He kept engaging me in these inane conversations. About friends, work, weather, likes and dislikes.

I didn’t want to know him.

And I didn’t want him to know me. So I told him as little as possible.

He was so noble.

Visiting the hospital, an orphanage here and there, giving money to anyone who asked. _He_ didn’t tell me this. But I heard others.

They kept talking about him constantly. At functions, in the streets and papers.

‘Harry Potter is so admirable. He donated money to this...’

‘Thank Merlin for Harry Potter. Even after the War he keeps saving...’

‘Isn’t he just such a good person? I saw him at St. Mungo’s...’

And on and on and on.

I didn’t listen to it. It was around me like a white noise. Always there.

Yes, it was all my fault. I started this thing with Potter.

So I had to suffer the consequences.

 

***

 

‘Can we just go to sleep?’ he said when I began taking off his clothes in a frenzy.

I halted. What? ‘Sleep?’

‘Yeah, I’m tired.’

We fucked. We didn’t _just_ sleep together.

I was lost for words. ‘Why did you come then?’

‘Oh. I guess I didn’t even think about it,’ he rubbed his face and yawned.

I was about to suggest a guest room or a couch.

I wanted to say: ‘Are you fucking joking? Go home, I know you have one. You are not going to sleep here if we’re not having sex. I hate you Potter. Don’t come here again if...’

But my inner tirade was interrupted by him moving to the bed and slumping down into the sheets and pulling them up to his chin.

I was dumbfounded. Speechless.

Annoyed.

I changed into the pyjamas and kept staring at him.

I wanted to roll him off the bed and send him off.

I couldn’t believe what was happening.

 

He was still there in the morning, sleeping.

I wanted him gone already.

I was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. I lifted my eyes when he came to the kitchen. Just in his pants and hair in disarray.

He rubbed his eyes and came to sit next to me.

‘Slept well?’ I tried not to sound irritated.

‘Mhm, yes.’ He was fidgeting. ‘Sorry about that. I was totally exhausted.’

‘Sure.' I took another sip. 'Shouldn’t you go to work already?’ I sounded like a wife.

‘It’s Saturday. I don’t work on weekends,’ he said.

‘Well, anyway, don’t you have somewhere to go?’ Could he not take a hint?

‘Not really,’ he shrugged.

Apparently he couldn’t.

I was about to summon his clothes and throw it at him.

Instead I suppressed my exasperation and went to toss the cup on the counter.

He came behind me and placed his hands on my chest.

‘Thank you for letting me sleep here,’ he breathed in my ear.

Just leave already.

‘That’s fine.’ My voice didn’t sound like it was.

‘Is it?’ he turned me around. ‘Do you want me to leave?’

Yes, _leave already_.

Inexplicably, I shook my head. His eyes were so green when he didn’t wear glasses.

‘Well, good,’ he kissed me and I pulled him closer.

It was so familiar, soft and warm.

Our tongues and lips moved together.

His hard body pressed against mine.

His warm skin under my palms.

His strong thigh between my legs.

His soft hair in my fingers.

His familiar smell in my nose.

His delicious taste in my mouth.

We got naked and had sex on the table. He moved on top of me. Slow and relaxed.

The muscles tensing and sweat glistening on his chest, stomach and thighs.

I touched him. I stroked him until he came. I did too, shortly after.

He lay on my body. We kissed some more, unhurried and blissful.

Then it all went on pretty fast.

He stayed the whole weekend. I didn’t even realize it.

We fucked. A lot.

We talked. He, mostly. I contributed something occasionally, usually a sarcastic comment or a witty remark.

We walked the grounds. The gardens.

We cooked. We ate.

After an exquisite rim job in the shower and a filthy kiss, he left Monday morning.

And so I was left alone.

With my treacherous thoughts.

What did it all mean? What did he think? What did he feel? What did I feel?

Did I hate him still? I hoped so. I had to. What would I feel for him if not hate?

I knew the answer to that question.

And I didn’t like it.

At all.

It frightened me to the core.


End file.
